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Captivity  of 

RICHARD  BARD,  ESQ., 

And  His  Wife, 

CATHARINE  POE  BARD, 

Collected  from  His  Papers  By  His  Son, 

HON.  ARCHIBALD  BARD, 

Together  with  an   Interpolation   by  Joseph  Pritts. 


INTRODUCTION  BY 

G.  (X  SEILHAMER,  ESQ. 

Chambersburg 

Conococheague  Genealogical  Society. 
J904. 


Captivity  of 

RICHARD  BARD,  ESQ., 

And  His  Wife, 

CATHARINE  POE  BARD, 


Collected  from  His  Papers  By  His  Son, 

HON.  ARCHIBALD  BARD, 

Together   with  an  Interpolation   by  Joseph  Pritts. 
INTRODUCTION  BY 

G.  (X  SEILHAMER,  ESQ. 


Chambersburg 

Conococheague  Genealogical  Society, 
J904. 


FOREWORDS. 

The  following  narrative  of  the  captivity  of  Richard  Bard 
and  his  wife  by  the  Indians  in  1758,  and  of  their  experi- 
ences and  sufferings  in  consequence,  is  reprinted  in  part 
from  "London's  Narratives,"  to  which  it  was  contributed 
by  Judge  Archibald  Bard,  a  son  of  the  captives,  and  in  part 
from  "Border  Life,"  published  by  Joseph  Pritts.  Like 

many  editors  Mr.  Pritts  took  liberties  with  the  original 
PI 

version,  substituting  a  prose  account  of  Richard  Bard's  es- 
cape and  return  journey,  written  by  himself,  for  the  verses 
.. 

"  that  were  a  part  of  the  first  publication.  It  will  be  ob- 
served that  the  Pritts  interpolation  is  written  as  if  it  was  a 
part  of  Judge  Bard's  narrative.  In  order  to  print  both 
versions  together  I  have  divided  the  reprint  into  three 
parts,  placing  the  Pritts  interpolation  between  the  begin- 
ning and  the  conclusion  of  Judge  Bard's  narrative. 

G.  O.  S. 
Chambersburg,  Pa.,  1904. 


447059 


INTRODUCTORY. 


The  following  account  of  Hugh  Mercer's  experience  in 
the  expedition  of  General  Braddock  against  the  French 
and  Indians  in  1755.  is  from  Blake's  Biographical  Diction- 
ary, 1838: 

"He  served  with  Washington  in  the  war  against  the  French  and  Indians 
which  terminated  in  1763,  and  was  by  him  greatly  esteemed.  He  was  with 
Braddock  in  the  campaign  of  1755.  At  the  action  of  Fort  Duquesne  he  was 
wounded,  and  faint  from  the  loss  of  blood,  he  lay  under  a  fallen  tree.  One 
of  the  pursuing  Indians  jumped  upon  the  very  tree,  but  did  not  discover 
him.  Mercer  found  a  brook  at  which  he  refreshed  himself.  In  his  hunger 
he  fed  on  a  rattlesnake,  which  he  had  killed.  After  pursuing  his  solitary 
way  through  the  wilderness  of  one  hundred  miles  he  arrived  at  Fort 
Cumberland." 

Fourteen  years  before  the  appearance  of  this  story 
Thomas  J.  Rogers  in  his  "New  American  Biographical 
Dictionary,"  published  at  Fasten,  Pa.,  made  similar  mis- 
statements  with  an  amplitude  that  showed  the  sources  of 
his  information.  He  made  Mercer  a  sharer  in  Braddock's 
expedition  and  "the  early  companion  in  arms  of  the  illus- 
trious Washington,"  but  he  did  not  venture  to  make  Fort 
Duquesne  the  scene  of  the  action  in  which  his  hero  was 
wounded  and  Fort  Cumberland  the  goal  at  which  the 
wandering  and  famished  soldier-  arrived.  Instead,  he 
named  Kittanning,  where  Mercer  actually  was  wounded 
while  serving  with  Col.  Armstrong's  expedition  in  1756, 
as  the  place.  "In  this  battle,"  Rogers  says,  "which  termi- 
nated in  the  defeat  of  the  Indians  and  the  destruction  of 
their  town.  General  Mercer  was  severely  wounded  in  the 
right  arm,  which  was  broken.  Upon  that  occasion  he  nar- 
rowly escaped  being  taken  prisoner,  and  being  separated 
from  his  party,  wandered  a  fortnight  in  the  wildnerness, 
slaking  his  thirst  in  the  brook  of  the  forest,  and  subsisting 
on  the  body  of  a  rattlesnake  which  he  had  killed  until  he 
reached  the  settled  country.  Being  a  physician,  he  applied 
temporary  relief  to  his  wound.  While  wandering  in  the 


woods,  much  exhausted  from  the  loss  of  blood,  and  the 
want  of  proper  food  and  nourishment,  and  surrounded  by 
hostile  savages  he  took  refuge  in  a  hollow  tree  which  lay 
on  the  ground.  In  that  situation  he  was,  when  many  of 
the  savages  came  up,  and  seated  themselves  upon  the  tree. 
They  remained  there  some  time,  and  departed  without  dis- 
covering that  a  wounded  soldier  and  foe  was  near  them. 
General  Mercer  then  endeavored  to  return  by  the  route  in 
which  the  army  had  advanced,  and,  incredible  as  it  may 
appear,  he  reached  Fort  Cumberland,  through  a  trackless 
wild,  of  more  than  one  hundred  miles,  with  no  other  nutri- 
ment than  that  already  mentioned." 

From  this  story  it  will  be  seen  that  the  Rev.  J.  G.  Blake 
obtained  his  information  from  Rogers,  while  Rogers  drew 
his  inspiration  from  a  versified  account  of  the  escape  of 
Richard  Bard  from  captivity  in  1758,  published  in  Lou- 
don's  "Narratives,"  that  antedated  "Border  Life."  The 
most  cursor}-  inquiry  into  the  sources  from  which  Rogers 
obtained  his  alleged  facts  would  have  shown  that  the  story 
was  drawn  from  Bard's  homely  verses,  written  as  long  ago 
as  1760.  From  1824,  when  Rogers'  work  appeared,  not 
only  Blake  but  nearly  every  writer  that  has  attempted  a 
biography  of  Mercer,  however  brief,  has  repeated  the 
same  false  tale.  Even  Washington  Irving  in  his  "Life  of 
Washington"  accepts  the  story  from,  Blake,  making  it  a 
part  of  a  vivid  description  of  Braddock's  defeat,  but  omit- 
ting the  rattlesnake,  as  follows : 

"Among  the  wounded  survivors  of  the  defeat,  who 
found  their  way  to  Fort  Cumberland,  was  Washington's 
friend  and  neighbor,  Dr.  Hugh  Mercer.  He  had  received 
a  severe  wound  in  his  shoulder,  and  being  unable  to  keep 
up  with  the  fugitives,  concealed  himself  behind  a  fallen 
tree.  Thence  he  was  a  sad  witness  of  a  demoniac  scene, 
which  followed  the  defeat.  The  field  was  strewn  with  the 
dead  and  dying,  and  among  them  several  gallant  officers. 
White  men  and  red  men  vied  with  other  in  stripping  and 
plundering  them  ;  those  who  were  still  alive  were  dispatch- 
ed by  the  merciless  tomahawk,  and  all  were  scalped. 
When  the  plunder  and  massacre  were  finished,  the  victors 
set  out  for  the  fort,  laden  with  booty,  the  savages  bearing 
aloft  the  scalps  as  trophies,  and  making  the  forest  ring 


with  their  yells  of  triumph.  Mercer  then  set  out  on  a 
lonely  struggle  through  the  wilderness,  guiding  himself  by 
stars  and  the  course  of  the  streams,  and  arrived  at  Fort 
Cumberland,  almost  exhausted  by  sickness,  famine  and 
fatigue." 

This  same  story  is  repeated  by  Charles  J.  Peterson  in  a 
biography  of  Mercer,  published  in  1852,  and  it  is  perpetu- 
ated in  Appleton's  "Cyclopedia  of  American  Biography," 
Peters.on  making  him  a  captain  under  Washington  in 
Braddock's  Expedition,  and  the  compiler  for  Appleton's 
going  to  the  absurd  length  of  saying  that  "he  received  a 
medal  from  the  corporation  of  Philadelphia  for  his  cour- 
age in  this  expedition." 

It  is  surprising  that  these  fictions  should  have  been  re- 
peated from  their  inception  in  1824  to  the  present  time 
with  almost  unanimous  approval,  while  no  writer  ever  at- 
tempted to  ascertain  the  truth  in  regard  to  Mercer's  ser- 
vices in  the  French  and  Indian  War.  After  fleeing  to 
America  upon  the  ending  of  the  disastrous  efforts  of 
Charles  Edward  in  Scotland,  Dr.  Mercer  settled  in  the 
Conococheague  Valley,  where  he  practiced  his  profession 
until  the  savage  onslaughts  that  followed  Braddock's  un- 
fortunate expedition.  That  he  was  with  that  expedition 
there  is  no  reason  to  believe.  His  name  is  not  mentioned 
in  any  contemporary  account  of  Braddock's  march  and  de- 
feat. Tf  he  had  met  with  the  romantic  experiences  at- 
tributed to  him  in  so  many  later  publications  it  is  not  like- 
Iv  that  they  would  have  escaped  the  contemporary  chron- 
iclers. That  he  was  not  in  command  of  one  of  the  Vir- 
ginia companies  is  certain,  and  that  he  knew  Washington 
personally  at  that  time  is  unlikely.  That  Dr.  Mercer  was 
active  in  promoting  measures  for  the  protection  of  the 
Conococheague  frontier  in  the  autumn  of  1755  and  the 
winter  of  1755-56  may  be  assumed,  but  we  have  no  knowl- 
edge of  his  movements  until  March  6,  1856,  when  he  was 
commissioned  a  captain  in  the  service  of  the  province  of 
Pennsylvania.  From  that  time  until  his  removal  to  Fred- 
ericksburg,  Va.,  after  the  close  of  the  French  and  Indian 
War,  in  1765,  the  sources  of  information  concerning  him 
are  ample  and  trustworthy. 

It  is  probable  that  Dr.  Mercer's  military  service  began 


under  George  Croghan  at  Aughwick,  where  Croghan  built 
a  stockade  in  October  and  November,  1755.  On  the  I2th 
of  November  Croghan  reported  that  he  had  forty  men  at 
his  stockade  at  Aughwick.  On  the  i8th  of  December 
Croghan  was  commissioned  a  captain  in  the  Provincial 
service,  and  a  few  days  later  he  was  supplied  by  the  pro- 
vince with  arms,  ammunition  and  blankets,  including  two 
"blunder  bushes/'  swivel  guns.  In  March,  1756,  he  turn- 
ed these  arms  and  material  over  to  his  successor,  Captain 
Mercer,  and  a  stronger  fort  having  been  erected  at  Augh- 
wick by  direction  of  Governor  Morris,  to  which  Morris 
°"ave  the  name  of  Fort  Shirley,  Mercer  had  command  of 
it  until  the  march  of  Colonel  Armstrong's  expedition 
against  Kittanning  in  August,  1756. 

After  the  capture  of  McCord's  fort  in  the  Cumberland 
Valley  and  the  defeat  of  Captain  Culbertson  at  Sideling 
Hill  early  in  April,  1756,  Captain  Hans  Hamilton,  who 
\vas  in  command  of  Fort  Lyttleton,  sent  an  express  to  Fort 
Shirley,  asking  Dr.  Mercer  to  come  to  the  succor  of  the 
wounded,  but  fearing  that  Mercer  could  not  leave  his  fort 
in  the  conditions  that  then  existed  Hamilton  also  sent  to 
Carlisle  for  Dr.  Prentice.  It  is  probable  that  Captain  Mer- 
cer obeyed  the  summons,  as  on  the  i8th  of  April  he  was 
at  Carlisle,  trying  to  fill  up  his  company  to  sixty  men.  A 
letter  that  he  wrote  to  Governor  Morris  from  Carlisle, 
-Apri1  18.  1756.  is  an  interesting  bit  of  autobiography.  It 
was  as  follows: 

Honoured  Sir:— 

The  commissary  general  of  the  musters  with  your  Honour's  instruc- 
tions to  review  and  pay  off  the  garrison  at  Fort  Shirley,  arrived  in  a  very 
lucky  time,  when  the  greater  part  of  our  men  were  about  to  abandon  the 
fort  for  want  of  pay.  It  was  with  great  difficulty  I  could  prevent  their 
doing-  «o,  for  three  weeks  before,  that  is  ever  since  the  time  of  enlistment 
had  been  expired.  I  am  sorry  to  observe  that  numbers  of  our  best  men 
declined  the  service  and  reduced  me  to  the  necessity  of  recruiting  anew 
through  diffidence  with  regard  to  their  pay,  and  I  have  been  obliged  to 
c.ngage  that  even  such  as  left  us  when  paid  off,  should  have  the  same  al- 
1'owance  as  formerly  for  their  overplus  time,  depending  upon  my  being  re- 
imbursed, as  without  such  engagement,  it  was  impossible  to  prevent  the 
fort  from  falling  into  the  enemy's  hands.  I  am  now  about  filling  up  my 
.( ompany  to  sixty  men.  agreeable  to  your  orders,  and  have  drawn  upon 
'(Cie  commissaries  for  thirty  pounds  for  this  purpose.  A  garrison  of  thirty 
rren  are  now  at  Fort  Shirley,  engaged  to  remain  there  until  the  first  of 
May,  by  which  time  I  am  in  hopes  of  continuing  the  company  and  shall 
iirmediately  thereupon  repair  thither.  It  is  to  be  feared  that  our  com- 
irvnication  with  the  settlement  will  soon  be  cut  off  unless  a  greater  force 


is  ordered  for  the  garrison.  As  your  Honour  is  sensible  that  I  can  send 
no  detachment  to  escort  provisions  equal  in  force  to  parties  of  the  enemy 
•who  have  lately  made  attempts  upon  our  frontiers,  and  considering  how 
short  of  provisions  we  have  hitherto  been  kept,  the  loss  of  one  party  upon 
Vhis  duty  rr.ust  reduce  us  to  the  last  necessity. 

Mr.  Hugh  Crawford  is  upon  the  return  of  Lieutenant  and  Mr.  Thos. 
Srrallrran,  who  acted  before  as  commissary  in  the  fort  as  ensign  to  my 
'ccrrpany.  It  will  be  a  particular  obligation  laid  upon  me  to  have  an  ex- 
Obange  of  Mr.  James  Hays  for  Lieutenant  and  Mr.  Smallman  continued. 
And  perhaps  Mr.  Crawford  would  be  satisfied  to  fill  Mr.  Hays'  place  with 
Capt.  Patterson,  as  members  of  that  company  are  of  his  acquaintance.  I 
have  given  Mr.  Croghan  a  receipt  for  what  arms  and  other  necessary 
articles,  belonging  to  him  are  at  Fort  Shirley,  a  copy  of  which,  together 
iwith  my  journal  and  general  return  shall  be  sent  by  Captain  Salter,  and 
find  it  impossible  to  arm  my  men  or  complete  what  yet  remains  of  our 
outworks  without  them.  The  guns  are  preferable  to  those  belonging  to 
she  government  and  I  hope  will  be  purchased  for  our  use.  The  arms  be- 
i'ng  unfit  for  use,  and  cartridge  boxes,  powder  and  lead  being  wanted,  I 
will  direct  a  general  order  to  the  commissary  at  once  for  all  these  things. 
It  is  my  desire  that  the  men  should  be  paid  once  every  month,  and  I  have 
so  written  the  department,  and  unless  we  can  do  this  we  can  expect  little 
satisfaction  in  serving  the  public. 

The  trust  your  Honour  has  been  pleased  to  repose  in  me,  in  giving 
me  the  command  of  Fort  Shirley,  calls  for  my  warm  acknowledgements 
and  cannot  fail  of  engaging  my  utmost  attention  and  zeal  in  the  execu- 
tion of  your  orders. 

It  is  unnecessary  to  deal  with  the  capture  of  Kittanning 
in  this  place  further  than  to  say  that  Captain  Mercer  par- 
ticipated in  the  action  and  was  wounded ;  that  he  was  re- 
ported as  carried  off  by  his  ensign  and  eleven  men,  who 
left  the  main  body  in  their  return  to  take  another  road: 
and  that  upon  the  return  of  the  expedition  to  Fort  Lyttle- 
ton  he  had  not  yet  arrived.  As  another  example  of  the 
manner  in  which  the  story  of  his  return  has  been  distorted 
1  quote  the  following  statement  from  the  "Frontier  Forts 
of  Pennsylvania:" 

"At  or  about  the  same  time,  there  was  a  Company  of  Cherokee  Indians 
in  King's  pay,  being  at  Fort  Lyttleton,  and  Captain  Hamilton  sent  some 
of  them  to  search  along  the  ?oot  of  the  Allegheny  mountains  to  see  if 
there  were  any  signs  of  Indians  on  that  route,  and  these  Indians  came 
upon  Captain  Mercer,  unable  to  rise;  they  pave  him  food,  and  be  tn!d  thOTr> 
of  the  other;  they  took  the  captrin's  track  and  found  him  and  brought 
him  to  Fort  Lyttleton,  carrying  him  on  a  bier  of  their  own  making.  They 
took  fourteen  scalps  on  this  expedition." 

This  is  also  drawn  from  Richard  Bard's  ballad.  The 
Cherokees  did  not  come  to  Pennsylvania  until  the  summer 
of  1757.  Bard  met  three  of  these  Indians  near  Fort 
Lyttleton  in  1758. 

Captain  Mercer  served  west  of  the  Susquehanna.  1756- 


10 

57,  and  at  Fort  Augusta,  1757-58.  He  was  promoted  to 
he  major,  December  4,  1757.  He  became  colonel-com- 
mandant of  the  3rd.  battalion  of  the  Pennsylvania  regi- 
ment. May  29,  1758,  and  colonel  of  the  second  battalion, 
April  13,  1760.  He  served  in  both  the  Forbes  and  the 
Bouquet  expeditions.  General  Mercer  is  worthy  of  a  bet- 
ter biographer  than  he  has  yet  found. 

That  Mr.  Bard's  ballad  contained  suggestions  for  all  the 
perils  that  Mercer  is  said  to  have  experienced  a  brief 
analysis  will  show.  In  one  stanza  he  says : 

"  In  hollow  logs  amongst  the  leaves, 
At  niglit  is  mine  abode." 

This  furnished  the  inspiration  for  the  original  inventor 
of  the  manner  of  Mercer's  escape  at  Braddock's  defeat, 
and  possibly  for  Pritts'  interpolation  in  "Border  Life,"  but 
there  is  a  tradition  that  Bard  hid  from  the  pursuing  In- 
dians, immediately  after  his  escape,  in  a  hollow  log,  and 
the  place  was  shown  to  me  at  Homer  City,  in  Indiana 
county,  where  the  tradition  is  cherished  as  a  fact. 

The  rattlesnake  story  will  be  found  in  full  in  the  ballad, 
and  also  the  sug-gestion  of  the  statement  that  Mercer,  be- 
ing- a  physician,  treated  his  own  wound.  And  here  is  the 
basis  for  the  Cherokee  story: 

But  on  the  evening  of  this  day 

I  met  with  Indians  three: 
Surprised  I  was,  and  really  thought 

Them  enemies  to  be. 

•  But  they  proved  kind  and  brought  me  to 

A  place  where  English  dwell, 
Port  Littleton;  the  place  by  me 
Was  known  exceeding  well. 

The  time  since  I  first  captive  was, 

This  is  the  fourteenth  day: 
Five  with  the  Indians  and  nine  since 

Prom  them  I  ran  away. 

I  believe  I  have  proved  my  contention. 

G.  O.  SEILHAMER. 


Narrative  of  the  Captivity  of  Richard  Bard,  Esq., 
Late  of  Franklin  County,  Penn'a,  Deceased, 
With  His  Wife  and  Family  and  Others.  Collect- 
ed From  His  Papers  by  His  Son,  Archibald  Bard. 
Reprinted  From  Loudon's  "Narratives,"  Together 
With  an  Interpolation  by  Joseph  Pritts  From 
"Border  Life." 


BEGINNING  OF  JUDGE  BARD'S  NARRATIVE, 

My  father,  Richard  Bard,  lived  in  York  County,  now 
Adams,  and  owned  the  mill  now  called  Marshall's  mill,  in 
what  is  called  Carroll's  tract,*  where,  in  the  morning  of 
the  1 3th  of  April,  1758,  his  house  was  invested  by  a  party 
of  nineteen  Indians.  They  were  discovered  by  a  little  girl 
called  Hannah  M 'Bride,  who  was  at  the  door,  and  on  see- 
ing them,  screamed,  and  ran  into  the  house.  At  this  time 
there  were  in  the  house,  my  father,  mother,  and  lieutenant 


•CARROLL'S  DELIGHT,  as  the  tract  was  named,  was  a  grant  of  5000 
acres  from  Lord  Baltimore  to  Daniel  Carroll,  of  Duddington  Manor, 
Prince  George's  County,  Md.,  from  whom  it  descended  at  his  death  In 
1735,  to  his  son,  Charles,  and  his  daughter,  Mary.  In  1741,  the  tract  was 
sold  to  Archibald  Beard,  John  Withrow,  James  McGinley  and  Jeremiah 
Lochrey.  It  was  afterward  found  that  the  tract  was  within  the  disputed 
Ixjundaries  of  the  provinces  of  Maryland  and  Pennsylvania,  and  in  1762 
caveats  were  entered  in  the  land  office  at  Philadelphia  against  granting 
warrants  for  these  lands.  The  controversy  was  not  finally  settled  until 
1802.  Bard's  Mill,  afterward  Marshall's,  later  Myers',  and  now  known  as 
Virginia  Mills,  was  not  within  the  limits  of  "Carroll's  Delight,"  but  ad- 
jacent to  it. 


12 

Thomas  Potter,  (brother  of  general  Potter)  who  had 
come  the  evening-  before  (being  a  full  cousin)  together 
with  a  child  of  about  6  months  old,  and  a  1x>und  boy. 
The  Indians  rushed  into  the  house  and  one  of  them,  with 
a  large  cutlass  in  his  hand,  made  a  blow  at  Potter,  but  he 
so  managed  it  as  to  wrest  the  sword  from  the  Indian,  and 
return  the  .blow,  which  would  have  put  an  end  to  his  ex- 
istence, had  not  the  point  struck  the  ceiling,  which  turned 
the  sword  so  as  to  cut  the  Indian's  hand.  In  the  mean- 
time. Mr.  Bard  (my  father)  laid  hold  of  a  horseman's  pis- 
tol that  hung  on  a  nail,  and  snapped  it  at  the  breast  of  one 
of  the  Indians,  but  there  being  tow  in  the  pan  it  did  not 
go  off;  at  this,  the  Indians  seeing  the  pistol,  ran  out  of 
the  house.  By  this  time  one  of  the  Indians  at  the  door 
had  shot  at  Potter,  but  the  ball  took  him  only  in  the  little 
ringer.  The  door  was  now  shut  and  secured  as  well  as  pos- 
sible ;  but  rinding  the  Indians  to  be  very  numerous,  and 
having  no  powder  or  ball,  and  as  the  savages  might  easily 
burn  down  the  house  by  reason  of  the  thatched  roof,  and 
the  quantity  of  mill  wood  piled  at  the  back  of  the  build- 
ing, added  to  the  declarations  of  the  Indians,  that  they 
would  not  be  put  to  death,  determined  them  to  surrender: 
on  which  a  party  of  Indians  went  to  a  field  and  made  pris- 
rners  Samuel  Hunter,  and  Daniel  M'Manimy.  A  lad  of 
the  name  of  William  White  coming  to  the  mill,  was  also 
made  a  prisoner.  Having  secured  the  prisoners,  they 
took  all  the  valuable  effects  out  of  the  house,  and  set  fire 
to  the  mill.  They  then  proceeded  towards  the  mountain, 
and  my  mother  enquiring  of  the  Indians  who  had  care  of 
her.  was  informed  that  they  wrere  of  the  Delaware  nation. 
At  the  distance  of  about  seventy  rods  from  the  house, 
contrary  to  all  their  promises,  they  put  to  death  Thomas 
Potter,  and  having  proceeded  on  the  mountain  about 
three  or  four  miles,  one  of  the  Indians  sunk  the  spear  of 
his  tomahawk  into  the  breast  of  the  sir  all  child,  and  after 
repeated  blows  scalped  it.  After  crossing  the  mountain. 
they  passed  the  house  of  Mr.  Halbert  T *  and  seeing 


*HAL.BERT  T ,   was  Albert  Torrence,   who  lived   near   the  bend 

of  the  East  Conococheague  below  Scotland.  He  died  in  177C.  An  illustra- 
tion of  this  peculiar  spellhig  is  found  in  the  case  of  his  son  Albert,  1st 
lieutenant  of  Capt  John  Rea's  company,  8th  Battalion,  Cumberland  County 
Associators.  whose  name  is  printed  Halbert  Torrence  in  the  Pa.  Archives, 
Second  Series,  Vol.  XIV..  page  400. 


13 

him  out,  shot  at  him,  but  without  effect.  Thence,  passing 
late  in  the  evening  M 'Cord's  old  fort,  they  encamped 
about  half  a  mile  in  the  gap.  The  second  day  having 
passed  into  the  Path  Valley,  they  discovered  a  party  of 
white  men  in  pursuit  of  them ;  on  which  they  ordered  the 
prisoners  to  hasten,  for  should  the  whites  come  up  with 
them,  they  should  be  all  tomahawked.  Having  been  thus 
hurried,  they  reached  the  top  of  the  Tuskarora  mountain 
and  all  had  sat  down  to  rest,  when  an  Indian  without  any 
previous  warning,  sunk  a  tomahawk  into  the  forehead  of 
Samuel  Hunter,  who  was  seated  by  my  father,  and  by  repeat- 
ed blows  put  an  end  to  his  existence.  He  was  then  scalped, 
and  the  Indians,  proceeding  on  their  journey,  encamped 
that  evening  some  miles  on  the  north  of  Sideling  Hill. 
The  next  day  they  marched  over  the  Alleghany  moun- 
tain, through  what  is  now  called  Blair's  gap.  On  the 
fifth  day,  whilst  crossing  Stony  Creek,  the  v.-ind  blew  a  hat 
of  my  father's  from  the  head  of  the  Indian  in  whose  cus- 
tody he  was.  The  Indian  went  down  the  stream  some 
distance  before  he  recovered  it.  In  the  mean  time  my 
father  had  passed  the  creek,  but  when  the  Indian  return- 
ed, he  severely  beat  my  father  with  the  gun,  and  almost 
disabled  him  from  traveling  any  farther.  And  now,  re- 
flecting that  he  could  not  possibly  travel  much  farther,  and 
that  if  this  was  the  case,  he  would  be  immediately  put  to 
death,  he  determined  to  attempt  his  escape  that  night. 
Two  days  before  this,  the  half  of  my  father's  head  was 
painted  red.  This  denoted  that  a  council  had  been  held, 
and  that  an  equal  number  were  for  putting  him  to  death 
and  for  keeping  him  alive,  and  that  another  council  was 
to  have  taken  place  to  determine  the  question.  Being 
encamped,  my  parents,  who  before  this  had  not  liberty 
to  speak  to  one  another,  were  permitted  to  assist  each 
other  in  plucking  a  turkey,  and  being  thus  engaged,  the 
design  of  escaping  was  communicated  to  my  mother. 
After  some  of  the  Indians  had  laid  down,  and  one  of  them 
was  amusing  the  others,  with  dressing  himself  with  a 
gown  of  my  mother's,  my  father  was  called  to  go  for  water. 
He  took  a  quart  and  emptying  it  of  what  water  it  contained, 
stept  about  six  rods  down  to  the  spring.*  My  mother  per- 
ceiving this,  succeeded  so  well  in  confining  the  attention 


14 

of  the  Indians  to  the  gown,  that  my  father  had  got  about 
one  hundred  yards,  when  the  Indians  from  one  fire,  cried 
to  those  of  another,  "your  man  is  gone."  They  ran  after 
him,  and  one  having  brought  back  the  quart,  said,  "here 
is  the  quart,  but  no  man."  They  spent  two  days  in  look- 
'ing  after  him,  while  the  prisoners  were  confined  in  the 
camp ;  but  .after  an  unsuccessful  search,  they  proceeded 
down  the  stream  to  the  Allegheny  river,  thence  to  fort 
Duquesne,  now  fort  Pitt.  After  remaining  there  one 
night  and  a  day,  they  went  about  twenty  miles  down  the 
Ohio,  to  an  Indian  town,  on  entering  Avhich  a  squaw  took 
a  cap  off  my  mother's  head,  and  with  many  others  severely 
beat  her.  Now  almost  exhausted  with  fatigue,  she  re- 
quested leave  to  remain  at  this  place,  but  was  told  she 
might,  if  she  preferred  being  scalped  to  proceeding.  They 
then  took  her  to  a  town  called  Cususkey.  On  arriving 
at  this  place,  Daniel  M'Manimy  was  detained  outside  of 
the  town,  but  my  mother,  the  two>  boys  and  girl,  were 
taken  into  the  town,  at  the  same  time  having  their  hair 
pulled,  faces  scratched,  and  beaten  in  an  unmerciful  man- 
ner. Here  I  shall  extract  from  my  father's  papers  the 
maner  and  circumstances  of  M'Manimy's  death.  This 
account  appears  to  have  been  obtained  from  my  mother, 
shortly  after  her  return,  who  received  it  from  those  who 
had  been  eye  witnesses  of  the  tragical  scene.  The  In- 
dians formed  themselves  into  a  circle,  round  the  prisoner, 
and  commenced  by  beating  him;  some  with  sticks,  and 
some  with  tomahawks.  He  was  then  tied  to  a  post  near 
a  large  fire,  and  after  being  tortured  some  time  with  burn- 
ing coals,  they  scalped  him,  and  put  the  scalp  on  a  pole 
to  bleed  before  his  face.  A  gtm  barrel  was  then  heated 
red  hot,  and  passed  over  his  body,  and  with  a  red  hot 
bayonet  they  pierced  his  body  with  many  repetitions.  In 
this  manner  they  continued  torturing  him,  singing  and 
shouting,  until  he  expired.  Shortly  after  this,  my  mother 


*THE  SPRING  where  Mr.  Bard  made  his  escape  is  on  the  farm  of 
John  McGhee,  about  a  mile  west  of  Homer  City,  in  Indiana  county.  Pa. 
Tradition  points  to  M'Conachey's  cliff,  at  the  bridge  a  short  distance  be- 
low the  Pa.  R.  R.  station,  as  the  place  where  he  concealed  himself  in  a 
hollow  log  when  the  Indians  were  in  pursuit  of  him. 


15 

set  out  from  this  place,  leaving  the  two  boys  and  girl, 
whom  she  never  saw  again,  until  they  were  liberated. 
She  was  now  distressed  beyond  measure ;  going  she  knew 
not  where,  without  a  comforter,  without  a  companion, 
and  expecting  to  share  the  fate  of  M'Manimy  in  the  next 
town  she  would  reach.  In  this  distressed  situation  she  met 
a  number  of  Indians  among  whom  was  a  captive  woman. 
To  her  my  mother  made  known  her  fears,  on  which  she 
\vas  informed  that  her  life  was  not  in  danger,  for  that  belt 
of  wampum,  said  she,  about  your  neck,  is  a  certain  sign, 
that  you  are  intended  for  an  adopted  relation.  They, 
scon  after,  arrived  at  a  town,  and  being  taken  into  the 
council-house,  two  squaws  entered  in  and  one  stept  up 
and  struck  my  mother  on  the  side  of  her  head.  Pc-ce:v:n^ 
'that  the  other  was  about  to  follow  this  example,  she  turn- 
ed her  head  and  received  a  second  blow.  The  warriors 
were  highly  displeased,  such  acts  in  a  council-house  being 
contrary  to  usage.  Here  a  chief  took  my  mother  by  the 
hand,  and  delivered  her  to  two  Indian  men,  to  be  in  the 
place  of  a  deceased  sister.  She  was  put  in  charge  of  a 
'•squaw  in  order  to  be  cleanly  clothed.  She  had  remained 
here,  with  her  adopted  friends  near  a  month,  when  her 
party  began  to  think  of  removing  to  the  headwaters  of  the 
Susquehanna,  a  journey  of  about  two  hundred  miles. 
This  was  very  painful  to  my  mother,  having  already  trav- 
eled above  two  hundred  miles  over  mountains  and 
swamps  until  her  feet  and  legs  were  extremely  swollen 
and  sore.  Fortunately,  on  the  day  of  their  setting  out,  a 
horse  was  given  to  her  by  her  adopted  brother;  but  be- 
fore they  had  traveled  far,  one  of  the  horses  in  the  com- 
pany died,  when  she  was  obliged  to  surrender  hers  to 
supply  its  place.  After  proceeding  on  her  journey  some 
miles,  they  were  met  by  a  number  of  Indians,  one  of  whom 
told  her  not  to  be  discouraged,  as  a  peace  was  about  to 
take  place  shortly,  when  she  would  have  leave  to  return 
home.  To  this  information  she  was  the  more  disposed  to 
give  credit,  as  it  came  from  one  who  was  a  chief  counsel- 
lor in  the  Delaware  nation  with  whom  she  was  a  prisoner. 
Having  arrived  near  the  end  of  her  journey,  to  her  great 
surprise,  she  saw  a  captive  dead  by  the  road  side,  having 


i6 

been  tomahawked  and  scalped.  She  was  informed  that 
he  had  endeavored  to  escape,  but  was  overtaken  at  this 
place.  On  arriving  at  the  place  of  destination,  having. 
\n  all,  traveled  near  five  hundred  miles,  the  fatigue  which 
she  had  undergone,  with  cold  and  hunger,  brought  on  a 
severe  fit  of  sickness,  which  lasted  near  two  months.  In 
this  doleful  situation,  having  no  person  to  comfort,  or 
sympathize  with  her,  a  blanket  was  her  only  covering,  and 
her  bed  was  the  cold  earth,  in  a  miserable  cabin ;  boiled 
corn  was  her  only  food.  She  was  reduced  to  so  weak  a 
state  as  to  consider  herself  as  approaching  the  verge  of 
dissolution.  But  recovering  from  her  sickness,  she  met 
with  a  woman  with  whom  she  had  been  formerly  ac- 
quainted. This  woman  had  been  in  captivity  some  years, 
and  had  an  Indian  husband  by  whom  she  had  one  child. 
My  mother  reproved  her  for  this,  but  received  for  answer, 
that  before  she  had  consented,  they  had  tied  her  to  a 
stake  in  order  to  burn  her.  She  added,  that  as  soon  as 
their  captive  women  could  speak  the  Indian  tongue,  they 
were  obliged  to  marry  some  one  of  them,  or  be  put  to 
death.  This  information  induced  her  to  determine  never 
to  learn  the  Indian  language,  and  she  adhered  to  this  de- 
termination all  the  time  she  remained  with  them,  from 
the  day  of  her  captivity  to  that  of  her  releasement,  a  space 
of  two  years  and  five  months.  She  was  treated  during 
this  time,  by  her  adopted  relations,  with  much  kindness : 
even  more  than  she  had  reason  to  expect. 

I  shall  now  return  to  the  narration  of  facts  respecting 
my  father,  after  he  had  made  his  escape  from  the  Indians 
.is  before  stated.  It  will  be  perceived  that  the  following 
verses  were  composed  by  Richard  Bard  shortly  after  his 
wife's  releasement,  and  were  not  intended  for  publication, 
but  as  they  contain  the  most  correct  statement  that  can 
at  this  day  be  procured  on  the  subject,  it  has  been  thought 
proper  to  publish  them,  omitting  all  that  has  a  relation  to 
anything  previous  to  his  escape : 

'Bove  six  score  miles  we  now  have  marched. 

Yet  fifty  doth  remain. 
Between  us  and  the  bloody  place, 

Where  standeth  Fort  Duquesne. 


At  three  rods  distance  from  a  run, 
Encamped  this  night  are  we : 

But  when  for  drink  they  do  me  send 
No  more  they  see  of  me. 

Alas!  for  me  to  go  'tis  hard. 
Since  with  them  is  my  wife. 

Yet  'tis  the  way  that  God  ordained 
For  me  to  save  my  life. 

The   omitted    Dart   of    the   ballad  was  as  follows: 


On  a  woeful  day  the  heathen  came, 
And  did  us  captives  make: 

And  then  the  miseries  commenced, 
Of  which  we  did  partake. 

Vin  eteen  the  number  of  them  was, 
And  in  the  house  they  came: 

But   battle  unto  them  we  gave, 
And  drove  them  out  again. 

One  of  the  foremost  that  came 
With  him  a  cutlass  brought: 

But  cousin  Potter  took  the  same: 
As   they   together   fought. 

At  one  a  pistol  I  did  snap, 

But   off  it  did   not  go: 
"A  pistol!    pistol!"  he  cries  out, 

And  from  the  door  they  go. 

But  ere  they  go  they  at  us  shoot, 

Us  thinking  for  to  kill; 
But  'mazingly  God  them  deprived 

Of  their  malicious  will. 

O,   terrifying  were   the  screams 

That  we  from  them  did  hear; 
As  also  was  the  sight  because, 

They  naked  did  appear. 
Back   of   the   house   they   soon   ap- 
pear, 

"Surrender,"  they  request; 
And    since    their    number    was    so 
great, 

We  thought  the  same  was  best. 

Then    quickly    came    they    in     the 

house. 

And  made  of  us  their  prey: 
They    did    us    bind    and    house    did 

rob, 


And  so  all  went  away. 

With    us    our    child    they    captive 
take. 

A  child   of   tender   age: 
Five  more  young  persons  are 

Exposed  to  cruel   rage. 

And  now  together  when  we're  sum- 
med, 

The  number  is  just  nine: 
Which    these   most   cruel   Indians 

Have  captured  at  this  time. 

Not  far,  however,  did  we  go 

Ere  to  a  hill  we  came, 
Where     tney    our    cousin     Potter's 
blood 

Inhumanly    did    spill. 

Those  hardened  savages  did  act 
As  though  they  did  no  wrong, 

And  in  his  head  a  tomahawk  left, 
And  brought  his  scalp  along. 

Out  of  my  arms  my  child  they  took, 

As  we  along  did  go: 
And  to  the  helpless   babe  they  did 

Their  crued  malice  show. 

Both  head  and  heart  the  tomahawk 

pierced, 

In  order  him  to  slay; 
And  then   they  robbed  him  of  his 

clothes, 
And  brought  his  scalp  away. 

But  God  the  cries  of  innocent  blood, 

Undoubtedly  will  hear: 
And  he  the  same  for  to  avenge 

Will  certainly  appear. 


But  after  me  they  quickly  run, 
Nor  doubting  of  their  prize : 

But  God  turns  into  foolishness 
The  wisdom  of  the  wise. 

O  cruel  man  in  vain  you  strive, 

In  vain  yon  follow  me : 
For  since  the  Lord  gainsaith  I  can 

Xo  more  your  captive  be. 


"If  you  do  speak,"  they  say  to  me, 
"We'll  surely  at  you  fire," 

When  leave  to  speak  unto  my  wife 
I  did  from  them  desire. 

To  do   a  favor  leave  was  asked 
By  my  beloved,  that  she 

Her  love  might  there  manifest. 
And  it  express  to  me. 

But  they  do  aggravate  our  grief, 
Throughout  each  doleful   h~'.;r: 

Xo  privilege  they  would  allow 
To  speak  unto  each  other. 

As  we  were  travelling,  they  saw 

A  man  and  at  him  shot 
Power  and  mercy  here  appeared, 

For  get  him  they  did  not. 

But  forty  miles  now  having  gone, 

This  day  is  at  an  end; 
They   halt,    and   here   to   stay   this 
night 

Is  what  they  do  intend. 

And  here,  the  fire  and  us  between, 
Our  infant's  scalp  they  place; 

Thinking  that  while  we  viewed  the 

same, 
Our  sorrows  would  increase. 

And  ere  they  do   themselves  com- 
pose 

In  order  for  to  rest, 
An  unseen  way  they  take  to  bind 

The  poor  and  the  oppressed. 

And  when  the  morning's  light  ap- 
pears, 

And  we  the  road  pursue, 
An  awful  sight  is  on  the  same 

Presented  to  our  view. 


For  in  our  sight  they  tomahawked 
One  who  with  us  was  taken: 

And  for  a  bed  to  this  poor  man 
His  blood  by  them  was  given. 

O,    terrifying    'twas    indeed 
To   hear  his   dying  screams, 

And    from    his    head   and   heart    to 

view 
Those  red  and  running  streams. 

But  at  his  terror  they  did  laugh. 

They  mock  his  dying  groans: 
Most  artfully  they  imitate 

His    last   expiring   moans. 

By  reason  of  the  rugged  road 

our  raiment  it  all  tore, 
And  down  our  legs  the  blood  doth 
run, 

Unfelt   the    like   before. 

Whilst  on  the  dismal  road  I  think, 
With  wondering  filled  am  I, 

How  it  could  be  that  my  poor  wife 
Could  cross  those  mountains  high. 

For  I  myself  did  almost  faint 

Under  their  cruel  hands: 
But  it  was  God  that  strengthened 
us, 

Against  their  hard  commands. 

O,  may  all  those  that  never  saw 

Or  felt  the  like  of  this, 
-Unto     the     Lord     give     praise   and 

thanks, 
And  God  forever  bless. 

With  great  barbarity  we're  used, 

As  guilty  of  a  fault, 
If,  we  without  acquainting  them, 

To  take  a  drink  do  halt. 


IJCK!  the  device  can  disappoint 

Of  crafty  folk  and  wise : 
So  that  perform  they  can't  always 

Their  cruel  enterprise. 

But  now  although  at  liberty, 

Through  mercy  I  am  set, 
Yet  miserable  is  my  life 

For  want  of  food  to  eat. 

O,  dreadful  sore  my  feelings  were 

Which  force  me  to  depart, 
Whilst  no  provisions  I  had  got 

My  life  for  to  support. 

O'er  hill  that's  high,  and  swamp  that's  deep 

I  now  alone  must  go: 
Travelling  oh,  I  suffer  much, 

For  bruise  my  feet  I  do. 


But  now  to  Allegheny  hill, 

At  length  we  come  unto, 
Where  those  inhuman   savages 

Expose  some  of  us  do. 

As  we  ascend  this  lofty  hill, 
No  wonder  we're  amazed 

To    hear    the    awful    sound    that's 

made 
When  war  halloos  are  raised. 

For  every  scalp  and  pris'ner  gained, 
A  loud  halloo  they  make: 

As  if  it  were  their  great  delight 
A  human  life  to  take. 

The  night  that  we  lay  on  the  hill, 

A  snow  on  us  did  fall: 
This  was  a  night  of  sore  distress 

Unto  each  of  us  all. 

For    we    could    not    come   near    the 
fire 

Through   all    that   night: 
O   had   not  God   sustained  us 

We  sure  had  died  outright. 

When   in   the  morning  we  arise. 
"March  on"  by  them  we're  told: 


But  this  to  us  is  misery  great, 
Our  feet   being  sore   and   cold. 

At  Laurel  Hill  we  found  a  creek 
Both  high  and  swift  the  stream, 

So  by  the  hand  I  took  my  wife. 
To  help  her  o'er  the  same. 

But  for  this  love  I  showed  to  her 

At  me  they're  in  a  rage, 
And  nothing  else  but  me  to  beat, 

Their,  anger  can  assuage. 

So  great  the  strokes  the  cruel  foes 

Have  given  to  me  here, 
That  for  ten  days  the  bruises  do 

Exceeding   plain    appear. 

The  load  to  carry  which  they  here 

Did  give  to  me  this  day, 
I  an  acount  will  minute  down. 

From   truth  I  will  not  stray. 

Two  bear  skins,  very  large  indeed, 

And  one  bed  quilt  also, 
Two    blankets    and    six    pounds    of 
meat, 

All  on  my  back  must  go. 


20 

Unto  a  hill  I  now  arrive. 
About  four  miles  'tis  broad : 

All  over  this  the  snow  doth  lie- 
Though  elsehere  it  is  thawed. 

Much  laurel  is  upon  this  hill, 
Its  leaves  are  filled  with  snow : 

So  I  upon  my  hands  and  knees, 
Under  the  same  must  go. 

My  hands  through  this  excessive  cold. 

Extremely  swelled  are : 
Of  miseries  I  in  this  place 

Abundantly  do  share. 

But  'tis  not  only  in  the  day, 

That  hardships  do  abound : 
For  in  the  night  they  also  do 

Encompass  me  around. 

In  hollow  logs  amongst  the  leaves. 

At  night  is  mine  abode ; 
No  better  lodgings,  wet  or  dry. 

Throughout  this  lonely  road. 

fhree  days  have  passed  since  my  escape. 

And  now  for  three  days  more. 
I  must  lie  by  and  -quiet  be, 

My  foot's  so  very  sore. 

\mazingly  my  foot  is  swelled. 

With  heat  'tis  in  a  flame; 
And  though  I'm  in  the  desert  land. 

Can't  walk,  I  am  so  very  lame. 

But  it  is  not  my  foot  alone 

That  misery  is  to  me, 
For  by  not  having  food  to  eat, 

My  woes  increased  be. 


21 


Almost  five  days  I  now  have  been, 

Without  the  least  supplies ; 
Except  bark  bud  which  I  did  pull, 

As  I  did  pass  them  by. 

Though  I'm  not  able  now  to  walk, 

I  creep  upon  my  knees : 
To  gather  herbs  that  I  may  eat, 

My  stomach  to  appease. 

But  whilst  I'm  roving  thus  about 

A  rattlesnake  at  speed, 
I  view  a  running  unto  me ; 

This  mercy  is  indeed. 

For  by  this  snake  I  am  supplied, 

When  kill  the  same  I  do; 
How  reasonable  this  mercy  is, 

None  but  myself  can  know. 

The  rattlesnake,  both  flesh  and  bone 

All  but  the  head  I  eat: 
And  though  'twas  raw  it  seemed  to  me 

Exceeding  pleasant  meat. 

Full  souls  do  loathe  the  honey  comb 
When  they've  enough  to  eat : 

Rut  unto  him  that  hungry  is, 
Each  bitter  thing  is  sweet. 

When  ripened  is  my  healing  foot, 

Which  mightily  did  ache, 
I  with  a  thorn  did  pierce  the  same, 

And  so  of  ease  partake. 

But  lest  my  foot  I  further  hurt. 

My  breeches  tear  I  do: 
And  round  my  foot  I  do  them  tie, 

That  I  along  may  go. 


22 


But  when  to  walk  I  do  attempt, 

Gives  me  excessive  pain : 
Yet  I  must  travel  with  sore  foot, 

Or  die  and  here  remain. 

So  when  a  few  miles  I  did  go, 

Unto  a  hill  I  come : 
Whilst  on  the  lofty  top  thereof, 

I  thought  I  heard  a  drum. 

And  judging  people  to  be  near, 

On  them  I  gave  a  call ; 
But  sure  there  was  no  one  to  hear, 

Being  weak,  conceit  was  all. 

But  by  these  calls  for  help  I  gave, 

I  evidently  see, 
That  I'm  more  spent  than  what  I  thought. 

Or  judged  myself  to  be. 

For  though  I'd  raise  my  voice  as  high 

As  I  had  power  to  do, 
'Bove  fifty  rods  it  can't  be  heard, 

"Pis  so  exceeding  low. 

Being  now  eight  days  since  I  escaped, 

I  to  a  river  came : 
Whilst  wading  it  I  suffered  much, 

Being  so  very  lame. 

But  having  Juniata  crossed, 

]  to  a  mountain  came : 
With  cold  I  ne'er  was  so  distressed 

/si  was  on  the  same. 

For  in  a  night  that's  very  cold, 

I  here  my  lodgings  take  : 
And  as  my  clothes  were  lately  wet, 

I  tremble  did  and  shake. 


23 

My  hands  by  this  excessive  cold, 

Are  so  benumbed  that  I 
Can't  move,  no,  not  a  single  joint,    * 

Were  it  a  world  to  buy. 

Then  I,  though  the  night  was  dark, 
Did  homewards  march  away: 

Lest  I  should  perish  with  the  cold, 
Should  I  for  daylight  stay. 

But  on  my  journey  in  this  night, 

With  joy  a  fire  I  see : 
This  was  the  strangest  providence 

That  ever  happened  me. 

t 
For  when  I  by  the  same  do  stay, 

Until  the  light  appear: 
I  see  a  road  just  at  my  hand, 

Which  doth  my  spirit  cheer. 

If  I  had  not  beheld  this  fire, 
This  Indian  path  I  crossed : 

And  then,  to  all  'appearance,  I 
Must  surely  have  been  lost. 

Along  this  path  I  went  in  haste, 

As  far  as  I  could  make : 
But  'twas  not  fast  that  I  could  go, 

I  was  so  very  weak. 

For  I  had  been  nine  days  and  nights, 

In  a  most  starving  state, 
Not  having  any  means  of  strength, 

Except  the  snake  I  ate. 

But  on  the  evening  of  this  day 

I  met  with  Indians  three : 
Surprised  I  was,  and  really  thought 

Then  enemies  to  be. 


24 

But  they  proved  kind  and  brought  me  to 

A  place  where  English  dwell. 
Fort  Littleton ;  the  place  by  me 

Was  known  exceeding  well. 

The  time  since  I  first  captive  was. 

This  is  the  fourteenth  day : 
Five  with  the  Indians  and  nine  since 

From  them  I  ran  away. 

Thanks  to  the  Lord,  who  did  provide 

Food  in  the  wilderness 
For  me,  as  did  preserve 

My  life  whilst  in  distress. 

Thanks  to  the  Lord,  because  that  he 

In  desert's  pathless  way, 
Directed  me  so  that  I  did 

At  no  time  go  astray. 

And  now  from  bondage  though  I'm  freed, 

Yet  she  that's  my  beloved. 
Is  to  a  land  that's  far  remote, 

Bv  Indians  removed. 


II. 

INTERPOLATION  BY  MR.  PRITTS. 

I  shall  now  return  to  the  narration  of  facts  respecting 
my  father,  after  he  had  made  his  escape  from  the  Indians 
as  before  stated. 

The  Indians,  as  soon  as  he  was  missed,  gave  ch;ise. 
Finding  himself  closely  pursued,  he  hid  in  a  hollov.-  log 
until  they  had  gone  by  and  out  of  hearing,  when,  turning 
in  a  different  direction,  he  resumed  his  flight.  Two  days, 


25 

it  has  been  said,  were  spent  by  the  Indians  in  search  of 
him  ;  in  the  mean  time,  with  much  fatigue  and  suffering, 
he  came  to  a  mountain  four  miles  across,  and  at  the  top 
covered  with  snow.  By  this  time  he  was  almost  ex- 
hausted, having  traveled  nearly  constantly  for  two  days 
and  nights,  and  being  without  food,  except  a  few  buds 
plucked  from  the  trees  as  he  went  along;  his  shoes  were 
worn  out ;  and  the  country  he  traveled  through  being  ex- 
tremely rough  and  in  many  places  covered  with  briers  of 
a  poisonous  nature,  his  feet  were  very  much  lacerated  and 
swollen.  To  add  to  his  difficulties  the  mountain  was  over- 
grown with  laurel  and  the  snow  lodged  upon  its  leaves 
so  bent  it  down  that  he  was  unable  in  many  places  to  get 
along  in  his  weak  condition,  except  by  creeping  upon  his 
hands  and  knees  under  the  branches.  Three  days  had  now 
elapsed  since  his  escape ;  and  although  he  feared  that  the 
Indians  were  still  in  pursuit  of  him,  and  that  by  traveling 
along  the  mountain  they  would  find  his  tracks  in  the  snow, 
and  by  that  means  be  led  to  his  place  of  concealment,  yet 
he  found  himself  so>  lame  that  he  could  proceed  no  farther. 
His  hands  also,  by  crawling  upon  them  in  the  snow,  be- 
came almost  as  much  swollen  as  his  feet.  He  was  there- 
fore compelled  to  lye  by,  without  much  prospect  indeed 
of  ever  proceeding  any  farther  on  his  journey.  Besides 
the  danger  of  being  overtaken  by  his  savage  pursuers,  he 
was  in  fact  in  a  starving  condition,  not  having  tasted  food 
since  his  escape,  except  the  buds  already  mentioned, 
plucked  as  he  journed  on  from  the  beanwood  or  red-bud 
tree,  as  it  is  called.  On  the  fifth  day,  however,  as  he  was 
creeping  on  his  hands  and  knees  (not  being  able  yet  to 
walk)  in  search  of  buds  or  herbs  to  appease  his  hunger, 
he  was  fortunate  enough  to  see  a  rattlesnake,  which  he 
killed  and  ate  raw.  After  lying  by  three  or  four  days, 
he  allayed  the  swelling1  of  his  feet,  by  puncturing  the  fester- 
ed parts  with  a  thorn ;  he  then  tore  up  his  breeches,  and 
with  the  pieces  bound  up  his  feet  as  well  as  he  could. 
Thus  prepared,  he  again  set  out  upon  his  journey,  limping 
along  with  great  pain  ;  but  he  had  no  other  alternative,  ex- 
cept to  remain  where  he  was  and  die.  He  had  gone  but 
a  few  miles  when,  from  a  hill  he  had  just  ascended,  he 
was  startled  by  the  welcome  sound  of  a  drum;  he  called 


26 

as  loud  as  he  could,  but  there  was  no  one  to  answer ;  it 
was  but  a  delusion  of  the  imagination.  Sad  and  disap- 
pointed he  journeyed  on  again,  and  on  the  eighth  day 
crossed  the  Juniata  by  wading  it,  which  on  account  of  his 
lameness,  he  accompli  shed  with  great  difficulty.  It  was 
now  night  and  very  cold,  and  his  clothes  being  wet,  he 
was  so  benumbed  that  he  was  afraid  to  lie  down  lest  he 
should  perish ;  and  he,  therefore,  lame  and  wearied  as  he 
was,  determined  to  pursue  his  journey,  although  it  was 
very  dark.  Providential  circumstance!  for  in  the  course 
of  the  night  as  he  wandered  on,  he  scarcely  knew  whither, 
he  was  attracted  by  the  sight  of  a  fire  apparently  aban- 
doned the  day  before,  probably  by  a  party  of  the  settlers 
who  were  out  in  pursuit  of  the  savages.  Remaining  here 
till  morning,  he  discovered  a  path  leading  in  the  direc- 
tion of  the  settlements,  which  he  followed  with  as  much 
speed  as  he  was  able.  This  was  the  ninth  day  since  his 
escape,  during  which  time  a  few  buds  and  four  snakes 
were  all  he  had  to  subsist  on.  In  the  afternoon  of  this 
day  he  was  alarmed  by  suddenly  meeting  at  a  turn  of  his 
path  three  Indians ;  but  they  proved  friendly,  and  instead 
of  killing  him,  as  he  expected  when  he  first  saw  them, 
they  conducted  him  in  a  few  hours  to  Fort  Littleton'*  (in 
Bedford  county,)  a  place  well  known  to  him,  where  he  re- 
mained a  few  days,  until  sufficiently  recruited  in  strength 
to  proceed  home. 


III. 


CONCLUSION  OF  JUDGE  BARD'S  NARRATIVE. 

Some  time  after  my  father's  return  home,  he  went  to 
fort  Pitt,  which  was  then  in  the  hands  of  the  English,  and 


•FORT  LITTLETON,  properly  Port  Lyttleton,  was  situated  at  the 
Sugar  Cabins,  in  what  is  now  Dublin  township,  Fulton  county.  It's  site 
is  often  confounded  with  Burnt  Cabins,  a  few  miles  distant.  It  was  on 
the  new  road  to  the  Ohio,  built  to  furnish  General  Braddock  with  supplies. 
"I  have  called  it  Fort  Lyttleton,"  Governor  Morris  wrote  Feb.  9,  1756,  "in 
honour  of  my  friend  Geor.ere." 


27 

a  number  of  Indians  being  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  riv- 
er, about  to  form  a  treaty,  he  one  evening1  went  over,  to 
make  inquiry  concerning  my  mother.  My  father  observ- 
ed among  them  several  who  were  present  when  he  was 
taken  prisoner ;  to  these  he  discovered  himself.  But 
they  professed  not  to  know  him,  on  which  he  enquired  of 
them  if  they  did  not  recollect  having  been  at  the  taking 
of  nine  persons,  referring  them  to  the  time  and  place. 
They  then  acknowledged  it,  and  enquired  of  him  how  he 
got  home,  &c.  after  which  he  made  enquiry  concerning 
my  mother,  but  they  said  they  knew  nothing  of  her,  but 
promised  to  give  him  some  information  by  the  time  of  his 
return  the  next  day.  He  then  returned  to  the  fort.  Shortly 
after  this,  a  young  man  who  had  been  taken  by  the  Indians 
when  a  child,  followed  him,  and  advised  him.  not  to  return, 
for  that  when  he  had  left  them  he  had  heard  them  say, 
that  they  never  had  a  stronger  desire  for  anything  than 
to  have  sunk  the  tomahawk  into  his  head,  and  that  they 
had  agreed  to  kill  him  on  his  return  next  day.  After  this 
man  had  requested  my  father  not  to  mention  anything  of 
his  having  been  with  him,,  or  of  the  subject  of  their  con- 
versation, he  returned  to  camp. 

I  may  here  state  that  from  the  time  that  my  father  was 
taken  by  the  Indians,  until  my  mother  was  released,  he 
did  little  else  than  wander  from  place  to  place  in  quest  of 
information  respecting  her,  and  after  he  was  informed 
where  she  was,  his  whole  mind  bent  upoti  contriving  plans 
for  her  redemption.  Desiring  with  this  view  to  go  again  to 
Pittsburg,  he  fell  in  with  a  brigade  of  wagons  commanded 
by  Mr.  Irvine;  with  them  he  proceeded  as  far  as  Bedford, 
l>ut  finding  this  a  tedious  way  of  traveling,  he  spoke  to 
the  coniimanding  officer  of  the  place  to  get  captain  White 
Eyes.*  who1  commanded  a  party  of  Indians,  to  promise  to 
accompany  him  to  Pittsburg.  This  was  accordingly  done. 


*WHITE  EYES,  alias  Koquethagachton,  was  a  celebrated  captain  and 
Counsellor  of  the  Delawares  of  the  Ohio  country.  He  was  a  warm  friend 
of  the  Moravian  mission  in  Ohio,  and  on  Dunmore's  War  and  the  Revolu- 
tion he  earnestly  strove  to  keep  the  Delawares  neutral.  While  on  a  visit 
to  Washington.  D.  C..  in  1902,  a  great-grandson  of  Capt.  White  Eyes  was 
introduced  by  Senator  Quay,  of  Pennsylvania,  to  Senator  Bard,  of  Cali- 
fornia, a  great-grandson  of  Richard  Bard. 


28 

and  the  Indians  having  agreed  to  take  him  safe  to  Pitt, 
my  father  set  out  with  them,  having-  a  horse  and  a  new 
rifle.  They  had  proceeded  but  about  two  miles,  when  an 
Indian  turned  off  the  road  and  took  up  a  scalp  which  that 
morning  had  been  taken  off  one  of  the  wagoners.  This 
alarmed  my  father  not  a  little;  but  having  proceeded 
about  ten  miles  further,  the  Indians  again  turned  off"  the 
road,  and  brought  several  horses  and  a  keg  of  whiskey 
which  had  been  concealed.  Shortly  after  this,  the  Indians 
began  to  drink  so  as  to  become  intoxicated.  White  Eyes 
then  signified  to  my  father  that  as  he  had  ran  off  from 
them,  he  would  then  shoot  him,  and  raised  his  gun  to 
take  aim;  but  my  father,  stepping  behind  a  tree,  ran 
round  it  while  the  Indian  followed.  This  for  a  time  gave 
great  amusement  to  the  bystanders,  until  a  young  Indian 
stepped  up,  twisted  the  gun  out  of  the  hands  of  White 
Eyes,  and  hid  it  under  a  log.  The  Indians  became  consid- 
erably intoxicated,  and  scattered,  leaving  White  Eyes  with 
my  father.  White  Eyes  then  made  at  him  with  a  large 
stick,  aiming  at  his  head,  but  my  father  threw  up  his  arm, 
and  received  so  severe  a  blow  as  to  blacken  it  for  weeks. 
At  this  time  an  Indian  of  another  nation,  who  had  been 
sent  as  an  express  to  Bedford,  came  by.  Captain  White 
Eyes  applied  to  him  for  his  gun  to  shoot  my  father,  but 
the  Indian  refused,  as  they  were  about  making  peace, 
and  the  killing  of  my  father  would  bring  on  another  war : 
(being  of  different  nations  they  were  obliged  to  speak  in 
English.)  By  this  time  my  father,  finding  himself  in  a 
desperate  situation,  resolved  at  all  events  to  attempt  an 
escape;  he  said  to  captain  White  Eyes,  our  horses  are 
going  away,  and  went  towards  them,  expecting  every  min- 
ute to  receive  a  ball  in  his  back,  but  on  coming  up  to  his 
horse,  he  got  on  him  and  took  to  the  road ;  he  had  gone 
but  a  short  distance  when  he  saw  the  Indian  who  had  taken 
the  gun  out  of  White  Eyes'  hand  sleeping  at  a  spring,  and 
I  have  often  heard  him  say,  had  it  have  been  any  of  the 
other  Indians,  he  would  have  shot  him.  Fearing  pursuit, 
he  rode  as  fast  as  his  horse  could  go,  and,  having  traveled 
all  night,  he  got  to  Pittsburg  the  next  morning  shortly 
after  sunrise,  and  he  was  not  there  more  than  three  hours 
until  the  Indians  were  in  after  him :  but  from  a  fear  of  in- 


29 

jury  being  done  my  mother,  should  he  kill  them,  he  sup- 
pressed his  anger,  and  passed  the  matter  by.  Here  he  had 
an  opportunity  of  writing  her  a  letter,  requesting  her  to 
inform  her  adopted  friends,  that  if  they  would  bring  her  in 
he  would  pay  them  forty  pounds.  But  having  waited  for 
an  answer  until  he  became  impatient,  he  bargained  with 
an  Indian  to  go  and  steal  her  away.  But  the  night  before 
he  was  to  start  he  declined  going,  saying  that  he  would  be 
killed  if  he  went.  In  this  situation  he  resolved  at  all  haz- 
ards to  go  himself  and  bring  her;  for  which  purpose  he 
set  out  and  went  to  a  place  on  the  Susquehannah,  I  think 
it  was  called  Shamokin,  not  far  from  what  is  called  the 
Big  Cherry  Trees.*  From  here  he  set  out  en  an  Indian 
path,  along  which  he  had  traveled  until  evening,  when  he 
was  met  by  a  party  of  Indians  who  were  bringing  in  my 
mother ;  the  Indians  passed  him  by  and  raised  the  war 
halloo — my  mother  felt  distresed  at  their  situation,  and 
my  father  perceiving  the  Indians  not  to  be  in  a  good 
humor,  began  to  promise  them  their  pay,  as  he  had  prom- 
ised by  letter,  when  they  would  come  to  Shamokin,  but 
the  Indians  told  him  that  if  he  got  them  among  the  whites 
he  would  then  refuse  to  pay  them,  and  that  they  would 
then  have  no  redress;  finding  they  were  thus  apprehen- 
sive, he  told  them  to  keep  him  as  a  hostage  out  in  the 
woods  and  send  his  wife  into  town,  and  he  would  send  an 
order  for  the  money  to  be  paid  them,  and  that  if  it  was 
not  done  they  might  do  with  him  as  they  pleased.  This 
had  the  desired  effect — they  got  quite  good  humored  and 
brought  them  in,  on  doing  which  the  money  was  paid 
agreeably  to  promise.  Before  my  father  and  mother  left 
Shamokin,  he  requested  an  Indian  who  had  been  an 
adopted  brother  of  my  mother,  if  ever  he  came  down 
amongst  the  white  peopletocall  and  see  him.  Accordingly, 
some  time  afterwards  the  Indian  paid  him  a  visit,  he  liv- 
ing then  about  ten  miles  from  Chambersburg.  The  In- 
dian having  continued  for  some  time  with  him,  went  to  a 
tavern,  known  bv  the  name  of  M'Cormack's,  and  there 


*BIG  CHERRY  TREES  wa>  near  the  present  town  of  Sunbury,  then 
generally  called  Shamokin. 


447059 


30 

became  somewhat  intoxicated,  when  a  certain  Newgen,* 
(since  executed  in  Carlisle  for  stealing  horses,)  having  a 
large  knife  in  his  hand,  struck  it  into  the  Indian's  neck, 
edge  foremost,  designing  thereby  to  thrust  it  in  between 
the  bone  and  throat,  and  by  drawing  it  forward  to  cut  his 
throat,  but  he  partly  missed  his  aim,  and  only  cut  the  fore- 
part of  the  windpipe.  On  this  Newgen  had  to  escape 
from  justice ;  otherwise  the  law  would  have  been  put  in 
force  against  him.  And  it  has  been  remarked,  that  ever 
after  he  continued  to  progress  in  vice  until  his  death.  A 
physician  was  brought  to  attend  the  Indian ;  the  wound 
was  sewed  up,  and  he  continued  at  my  father's  until  he 
had  recovered ;  when  he  returned  to  his  own  people,  who 
put  him  to  death,  on  the  pretext  of  his  having,  as  they 
said,  joined  the  white  people. 

In  August,  1764,  (according  to  the  best  accounts  of 
the  time,")  my  father  and  his  family,  from  fear  of  the  In- 
dians, having  moved  to  my  grandfather  Thomas  Poe's, 
about  three  miles  from  his  own  place,  he  took  a  black  girl 
with  him  to  his  own  place  to  make  some  hay — and  being 
there  at  his  work,  a  dog  which  he  had  with  him  began  to 
bark  and  run  towards  and  from  a  thicket  of  bushes.  Ob- 
serving these  circumstances  he  became  alarmed,  and 
taking  up  his  gun,  told  the  girl  to  run  to  the  house,  for 
he  believed  there  were  Indians  near.  So  they  made  tow- 
ards the  house,  and  had  not  been  there  more  than  an 
hour,  when  from  the  loft  of  the  house  they  saw  a  party, 
commanded  by  Cantain  Potter,  late  General  Potter,  in 
pursuit  of  a  party  of  Indians  who  had  that  mornine  mur- 
dered a  school  master  of  the  name  of  Brown,  with  ten 
sriall  children,  and  scalned  and  left  for  dead  one  by  the 
name  of  Archibald  McCullough,  who  recovered  and  was 

*NEWGEN  means  Nugent;  he  was  one  of  a  noted  family  of  outlaws 
that  lived  on  the  Palling'  Spnng.  near  Chambersburg,  Pa.  '''hree  N''"">nt 
brothers  were  mentioned  in  fh°'r  father's  will,  pro--'"1  i-,  i7<v>  -^'11- 
liam,  Benjamin  and  James.  William  and  Benjamin  were  Indicted  a  num- 
ber of  times  for  felonies,  but  generally  managed  to  jump  their  bail.  The 
name  of  James  Nugent  is  not  found  in  the  criminal  records  of  Cumberland 
county  for  twenty  years  after  indictments  began  to  be  found  against  his 
elder  brothers,  but  finally  at  a  court  of  oyer  and  termlner  held  at  Carlisle 
before  Thomas  M'Kean,  Chief  Justice,  and  George  Bryan,  Justice,  a  jury 
was  empaneled  May  26,  1780,  to  try  Benjamin  Nugent  and  James  Nugent 
for  "felony  and  robbery,"  they  were  sentenced  to  be  hanged,  May  29,  1780. 


living  not  long  since.  It  was  remarkable  that  with  but 
few  exceptions,  the  scholars  were  much  averse  to  going 
to  school  that  morning.  And  the  account  given  by 
McCullough  is.  that  when  the  master  and  scholars  met  at 
the  school,  two  of  the  scholars  informed  him  that  on  their 
way  they  had  seen  Indians,  but  the  information  was  not 
attended  to  by  the  master,  who  ordered  them  to  their 
books ;  soon  aftenvards  two  old  Indians  and  a  boy  rushed 
up  to  the  door.  The  master  seeing  them,  prayed  them 
only  to  take  his  life  and  spare  the  children ;  but  unfeel- 
ingly the  two  old  Indians  stood  at  the  door  whilst  the  boy 
entered  the  house  and  with  a  piece  of  wood,  made  in  the 
form  of  an  Indian  maul,  killed  the  master  and  scholars, 
after  which  the  whole  of  them  were  scalped. 


*MASSACRB  OF  THE  SCHOOL  CHILDREX-Enoch  Brown  and  his 
scholars— eleven  in  number— were  killed  and  scalped  by  the  Indians,  July 
26.  1764.  The  school-house  was  at  what  was  known  as  Guitner's  school- 
house  in  later  years. 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA,  LOS  ANGELES 
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